


The Complex Routine Of Gamzee Makara

by jesicahazel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, mostly just fluffy stuffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-23
Updated: 2012-10-23
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesicahazel/pseuds/jesicahazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Many trolls do not realize how involved the evening routine of Gamzee Makara is and only Tavros Nitram knows how wrong they are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Complex Routine Of Gamzee Makara

Many trolls did not realize how involved the evening routine of Gamzee Makara was. They assumed that he stumbled out of his recupacoon, dripped the sopor out off his hair and into a pie tin, ate that for breakfast; ending the ritual by slapped paint onto his face in the half hazard manner that was observed in all other areas of his life.   
This could not be any farther from the truth and only Tavros Nitram knew it.   
Gamzee woke up at a surprisingly early hour, just as the sun was setting over the ocean. He always tried his hardest not to wake Tavros up with him as he carefully pulled himself out of the green slime. Most of the time he managed to leave Tavros fast asleep in their shared recupacoon, invoking only a sigh with his careful exit.   
Contrary to popular belief, Gamzee did wash his face paint off before going to sleep.   
“Wouldn’t want my motherfucking face to up and smudge,” Gamzee explained when asked, smiling as he gently scrubbed the white paint, revealing the pale grey underneath. The first time he had seen Gamzee’s face, his face underneath the mask, Tavros had been entranced. Gamzee had been patient, amused even, as Tavros sat in his lap and traced the lines of a new face. This one was sharper, surprisingly, a little less sloppy in it’s grin, but decidedly handsome. Tavros felt as if he were tracing the lines of fine china or the edges of a puzzle he had been working on for ages.   
“It’s just my face, Tavbro,” Gamzee’s loping smile was less crooked than usual and thinner, the teeth stood out in less stark white contrast. Tavros shuddered and traced the edge of the smile with the pad of his thumb.   
“S-some face,” he stuttered, trying to sound smooth as he swept his hand across the smooth plane of Gamzee’s high cheek bones.   
This meant that every morning Gamzee had to put on a fresh mask of paint. Sometimes he would wait a while, until Tavros was up and snuggling into his back, and stare out of the far window of his room, his eyes burning slightly as he watched the sun sink below the churning blue-green waves. There was something beautiful and fresh about a sunset. A new beginning. To anyone else, this sort of quiet observation would look like a drug addict spaced out and staring into emptiness, but when he finally awoke, Tavros saw it for was and would come ambling over, his metallic legs dripping a bit on the floor, gummy from the sopor, and silently hold Gamzee around his waist, burying his forehead in the nook between his shoulder blades.   
They would stay like that for awhile, Gamzee’s hands tracing circles on the back of Travos’ as they both contemplated their new beginnings.   
Then the sun would dip below the horizon and Gamzee would twist around in Tavros’ loose grip and smile, his hair flattened with damp though curled on the edges and his eyes half closed with sleep. Tavros would smile back, his hair sticking up at odd angles in a way that could only be explained by miracles.   
The next stage depended entirely on their combined moods and what they had done the night before. If some factors were present, Gamzee would towel off quickly, scoot Tavros toward the bathroom and hurry into the kitchen to make them both breakfast, humming and flipping grubcakes. The clothed-ness of this activity also largely depended on Gamzee’s mood and what kind of kiss he had received from Tavros that morning.   
How long Tavros took in the shower depended on a variety of factors. How well his legs were holding up, how long he had slept that day, how good breakfast smelled, and, most importantly, how clothed Gamzee was.   
He had once taken a 1 minute shower before bounding out of the bathroom, dripping wet with a mixture of water and left over sopor, simply because Gamzee had decided that only an apron had been needed that evening for cooking. This was somehow more erotic than plain nudity.   
Gamzee had laughed when he saw Tavros panting and dripping in the doorway, his unpainted smile easy, yet sharp as the knife he held in his hand, cutting strawberries for breakfast.   
Four step across the flour dusted floor and the red berry was safely secured in between Tavros’ slightly open lips and Gamzee was safely enclosed in Tavros’ slightly dripping arms.   
“It’s just strawberries, babe,” Gamzee had teased, pulling at the side of Tavros’s flushed brown face.   
Tavros could only swallow and try to explain what strawberries really meant to him when they were held by Gamzee only in an apron.   
Today, they were both a bit sleepy; Gamzee wrapped the towel he had quickly rubbed down with around his waist and languidly waved Tavros off to the bathroom before his legs jammed, pecking his neck with light kisses and sharp toothed smiles.   
He then ambled off to the kitchen where he opened the fridge, and pulled out some eggs, cheese, and half a pie from last night. The floor of his kitchen was constantly covered in a fine layer of flour and it coated the bottom of his long, bare feet. He padded to the counter and placed the ingredients on the smooth, slightly sticky surface.   
He put a pan on the stovetop and melted butter as he pulled a long finger through the green filling of the pie to his left. He took the sopor covered finger up to his line of sight and studied it, eyes narrowed and a slight frown on his face.   
He shuddered as he remembered the last time he had tried to quit. He put the sopor-covered finger into his mouth and ruefully cleaned it. It was simply self medication.  
Of course, going cold gobble-beast had been a bit of a stupid move.   
He never wanted to remember the look on Tavros’s face after the second day of sobriety. He never wanted to think about the look on his own face. He had no idea how Tavros had managed to hold him down, pinning him on his stomach with his hands behind him. Luckily Eridan had been nearby, close enough for Tavros to commune with his lusus to get him to the hive. He had been furious, angrily pouring pure sopor down Gamzee’s throat as he thrashed beneath Tavros’s immovable steel legs.   
“You fucking idiot!” Eridan had slapped him as he came down from whatever sort of violent fit he had had, “Wwhat the actual fuck did you think would happen? You’re just lucky Tavros isn’t as fuckin’ wweak as we all thought he was!” His childhood speech impediment swelling like a wave in his anger.   
Tavros had been the one to kick Eridan out after that, Gamzee being too busy shaking on the floor of the respiteblock.   
“Thank’s for your help,” not a stutter in sight as he firmly lead a disbelieving Eridan to the door, “but you can’t speak to Gamzee like that.”   
Eridan had stood quietly wibbling outside of the slammed door for a good minute before he was able to comprehend what had just happened.   
Gamzee couldn’t even look at Tavros for two full weeks.   
At least until the bruises had faded on both of their faces.   
“I motherfucking TRIED Tavros,” Gamzee shuddered with sobs that left no tears on his grinning face, his teeth still needle sharp and his thin, shaking body curled around Tavros’ legs as he stroked his wild hair. His grasp on Tavros’s thighs was tighter than the expression in his shock wide eyes. “I can’t believe I MOTHERFUCKING HURT YOU.”   
“Shoosh,” Tavros stroked the slightly wet hair that stuck to Gamzee’s impossibly smudged forehead and stared out across the room. “It’s okay.”   
Gamzee opened his mouth to say something, the terrible grin of pure terror and agony still firmly in it’s place, elongating his thin, pale face, and making him look like a caricature of fear.   
No words came out as Gamzee slowly shook his head from side to side..   
It was just self medication at this point.   
“Uh, Gamzee?” Tavros waved a hand in front of Gamzee’s vacant eyes, the tinges of green and indigo flaked like a kaleidoscope of impassive thought.   
Gamzee blinked and took his finger out of his mouth, smiling and shaking away the memory.   
“Yeah babe?”   
“You’re, uh, burning the butter,” Tavros was dressed in his custom attire, one of his socks slightly lower than the other. Gamzee could not explain how much he loved those motherfucking socks and sandals. There was something about the way that Tavros dressed that just sang miracles to him.   
Gamzee’s eyebrows flew up as he looked down to the pan that was, in fact, smoking.  
“Would you look at that,” Gamzee’s mouth pulled to the side as he pulled the pan off the stove and threw it in the sink, “I up and ruined our breakfast.”   
Tavros smiled and ruffled Gamzee’s slightly sticky and stiff hair, the sopor had dried and now it was going to be nigh impossible to wash all of it out without pulling chunks of Gamzee’s hair out as well.   
“Don’t worry about it,” Tavros took Gamzee’s hand and swung it between them, his quiet smile the picture of patience. “We still have waffles from yesterday, we can just heat those up.”   
Gamzee nodded vaguely, still slightly upset from having thought about his time sober so early in the evening, he scooped up another finger-full of pie filling and got the waffles out of the freezer. Tavros trotted up behind him and grabbed them out of his hands, playfully nipping at the exposed neck and shoulder.   
“I can do this, you need to get a shower before you have a permanent sopor glaze stuck to your entire body.”   
Gamzee smiled and patted Tavros head, “Okay babe,” he stretched, still partially enclosed in Tavros’s arms, keeping one eye open to see the emotions that flickered across Tavros’s deep brown eyes. His smile widened and he turned, padding out of the kitchen, before throwing a final look behind him at Tavros awkwardly smiling and shuffling in the middle of the room.   
“Join me in a few?” Gamzee asked, smile wide and easy, sharp and harmless.   
Tavros smiled and nodded, turning to go heat up the waffles. His legs were acting up a little, Gamzee noticed. He was going to have to schedule an appointment with Equius again, Tavros never would take care of something like that for himself. It had always been up to Gamzee to make sure that Tavros’s legs were in working order, it had been his idea to get them installed in the first place.   
He remembered Tavros’s protests, saying that they were too expensive, that Gamzee shouldn’t waste his resources on him, that he was just fine with his four wheeled device. Even now Gamzee shook his head at the selflessness as he walked to the bathroom.   
Tavros always left tons of hot water, sometimes Gamzee had to wonder if he took cold showers just to make sure that Gamzee had enough. It would be a very Tavros thing to do.   
Gamzee let the water get to steaming hot before he stood underneath the spray, smiling lightly as the water ran trails down his slightly green hued body, clearing paths for the grey skin underneath. He scrubbed hard at his body, the sopor having turned into a second skin at this point, but saved his hair, only letting the water press it down into a helmet-like hat.   
He was completely cleaned of sopor on his body by the time that Tavros knocked on the door.   
“Come in,” Gamzee smirked at the fact that Tavros felt he still needed to knock. This was phase three, it happened almost every morning, no matter what mood they were both in.  
One nice thing about being a high blood was the amount of freedom in design that one was allowed when creating their hive. You could adapt any aspect of your hive long after the initial building was made. Gamzee didn’t want for many extravagant things, but there were a few times when he used his privilege. The shower was one of those times. The head of the shower could swivel down or up and even detach, making it easy for Tavros to come and wash Gamzee’s hair for him. The tub was huge, large enough for two trolls when two trolls had the notion to fit in one tub, and clawfooted, raised above the tiled floor in a way that made it very easy for someone to perch on the conveniently placed bench and be near the person in the tub.   
It was one part necessity, Tavros had been shocked a the amount of hair Gamzee would simply rip out if he couldn’t get sopor out in what he felt was adequate time, and two parts pleasure. Gamzee was essentially a giant, high, cat, and he loved having his hair cleaned. Tavros was essentially a big horned, talking lusus, and he loved taking care of Gamzee. Also, the view wasn’t half bad.  
It took a while of gentle scrubbing and rhythmic rubbing but after a bit of time Gamzee’s hair was clean and untangled and, frankly, beautiful. Of course, it was still crazy and a bit out of control but even since Tavros had moved in half a sweap ago and had started washing Gamzee’s hair people could not deny that there was a certain stunning quality to the blackish-purple mane. Gamzee could give less of a motherfuck about that. All he knew is that for about a half hour every day, Tavros was not only paying 100% attention to him, but his hands were all over in his hair. That was enough for Gamzee to be certain that he was part of a motherfucking miracle.   
After the daily hair washing Tavros would leave Gamzee to dry off in peace and go get their breakfast’s. He would be fast, grabbing the plates and hurriedly putting whatever finishing touches, syrup, fruit, a drink, the dishes needed on and jogging back to the bathroom in time to see Gamzee wrapping his towel around his waist and pulling out his hair band and paints.   
This was Tavros’s favorite part, while he loved Gamzee’s face, and even wanted him to leave the paints off sometimes (they did smudge on his face awfully) there was something so dangerously intimate about watching Gamzee put on the paint in front of him. Tavros perched on the edge of the tub, still slightly damp from both of their showers, and settled in, eating waffles silently and watching Gamzee in the mirror.   
Gamzee’s hair dried so fast that even Tavros was convinced that magic and miracles had something to do with it so by the time that Gamzee had all his brushes and paint pots out his hair was fluffy and swirling in front of his eyes. He pulled it back with a simple white head band, his facial structure sharp and taught in the light above the mirror. He met Tavros’s quietly eager eyes watching from behind him and smirked, winking. Tavros blushed and ate another bite of waffles, they were always silent at this phase of getting ready for the day.   
There were different ways for Gamzee to do his face paint ranging from the ultra casual of just a few layers of white to the ceremonial formal mask of a high subjugglator , today he just felt like doing the usual casual paint that he almost always wore. First, he outlined the pattern of white, outlining his eyes in wide circles, two circle’s of grey outlined at his temples. The slope of a large grin was added around his mouth, two slits of bare skin adorning the sides, Gamzee smiled to make sure it looked right, his practiced brush making the strokes quickly and effortlessly. He painted the mass of his face with a thick white paste, it clung to his skin and smoothed out his expression, he smiled again to make sure all cracks and creases in his skin were filled. He took out a second, rounder and larger, brush and patted it into a tub filled with white powder. He patted and tapped the powder over the white paint, leaving the area around his eyes and mouth clear and clean. The paint and the powder dried together, making a soft, almost skin-like layer of mask. It didn’t crack and stayed in place (for the most part.)  
Gamzee then took another jar, this one filled with black, and a thin, hard bristled brush, He lightly swept his eyelids, making them stand out and making the lines of the mask around his eyes sharper and crisper.   
He finished, washed the brushes while whistling a soft tune under his breath. He smiled fully and put away the paints behind the mirror and turned to look at Tavros finishing his waffles. He leaned back against the sink and lazily observing Tavros as he finished his final bite of waffles and smiled up at Gamzee through closed lips.   
“Hey Gamzee.”   
“Hey Babe.”   
“Ready for the, uh, day?”   
“You motherfucking bet.”


End file.
